The Sociopath, The Madman and The Box
by my-username-is-better
Summary: What happens when a sociopath and a madman cross paths? Complete and utter chaos obviously (you have to feel sorry for John and Clara)
1. Chapter 1

'Another case? Really?' John was sitting in his chair with an incredulous look on his face. They had just gotten back from catching a serial killer, the fourth that day. John suspected that all of the cases had something to do with the fact that Mary was out of town at a medical conference. She had taken baby Violet along with her because she 'didn't trust John when Sherlock was in a three mile radius'. He would've felt offended if it wasn't so reasonable. John just wanted to relax but he appreciated his best friend trying to cheer him up. 'Well this one is slightly different.' Sherlock replied examining a fez, of all things, turning it over in his hands. 'No this one doesn't show up anymore.' he muttered to himself distractedly. He was gazing at the fez with an intensity that made John want to burst out laughing or maybe back away from his friend, possibly both. 'So are you going to explain or should I leave you two alone together'. John smirked knowing Sherlock would probably take him literally. It's funny how such a genius mind can be so clueless sometimes. 'It has recently come to my attention,' began Sherlock scowling, pointedly ignoring the last comment 'That there is a blue box which shows up every so often around London. It is generally accompanied by one of twelve men although once or twice a thirteenth has appeared'. 'So what?' John asked curiously, 'Maybe they're in a cult or something'. 'The cult of blue boxes?' Sherlock scoffed skeptically. 'Stranger things have happened' John replied shrugging. 'And anyway why are you investigating a box?' 'A few weeks ago Mycroft came across a locked room. It was hidden behind a filing cabinet in an unused office. He was denied access to it on the basis that the information was confidential. He started looking on MI5's database but he gave up because _most_ of the information is kept in that one locked room. He did however find out that the room held data on something called Project Blue.'

Sherlock paused his rant to take a breath and John took the opportunity to speak; 'What's the big deal about classified information?' 'What no one realises,' Sherlock said slowly as if speaking to a small child, 'is that Mycroft basically runs the country , which makes you wonder, if you _had_ the ability to wonder, don't roll your eyes, is whats in those files. While most of the data on the subject is kept in that room we did find a file that held pictures of thirteen men. A common factor in each picture was a 1960's telephone box. Each picture has different dates underneath. Using these we were able to work out when these people have been in London. The pictures are numbered 1-13. The man in the most recent picture is still here as far as we know. We also found a seperate file marked companions I'll explain in a moment.' The room went silent as John processed the weighty information and wound up completely lost. 'So where do we come into this? Does Mycroft want us to break in or something?' 'No we both decided early on that it would be simpler to go straight to the source. You know how I mentioned the companion file,' Sherlock said. John nodded his head uncertainly, privately wondering just how stupid his friend thought he was if Sherlock assumed John had forgotten already. 'It holds details of associates the men have had at various times. The most recent man has an associate too, a young woman by the name of Clara Oswald. We're going to break into her flat and find out anything we can. Oh and one more thing, all of them are doctors.'

Across time and space, Clara and the Doctor were kicking back in a restaurant in Manhattan 1922 . For once they were actually having quite a relaxing trip. Well relaxing in the sense that _only_ one attempt had been made on their lives. It had, however, been rather exhausting because they had been dealing with a weeping angel. The angel in question had been fairly weak, but that made it all the more ruthless. After they finished having their cocktails Clara demanded they head back to the 21st century because she wanted to grab her favourite winter coat for skating on a frozen planet. After a brisk walk back to the TARDIS arguing over the literary significance of the 'The Little Engine That Could' they set off for 2016.

The Doctor parked outside and went to look at a tree he claimed was looking at him funny, though really it was because of Clara's insistence that it was 'JUST A KIDS BOOK, DOCTOR'. Clara sighed inwardly and went into her block of flats and up the stairs to the fourth floor. She opened the door of her flat. She felt a shiver of apprehension and looked around warily, something felt... off , although she couldn't put her finger on it. But everything looked exactly like it usually did, slightly messy with coats and jackets heaped on a chair and her books on the floor because she'd long since run out of shelves. Then she realised two things. She hadn't actually unlocked her door, in fact it had been slightly ajar. And for another thing the background noise she had taken to be her radio was in fact two voices. There were people in her _flat_! She strained to hear what they were saying and when she did, she froze.

She thought about what to do given the details of the situation and made a quick desicion. She dialed the number knowing that the people she was ringing would be infinitely more useful than the police. It rang three times before the person at the other end picked up. 'What is it?' asked the calm and authorative voice coming from the other end of the phone. 'There are people in my flat.' Clara whispered, keeping her voice down least they hear her. 'Well, call the police then.' replied the other speaker, not unkindly. 'We gave you this number for emergencies only'. 'This _is_ an emergency,' Clara hissed under her breath, slowly making her way towards the kitchen. 'I heard them talking about a man and his box and how they had to find him to question him. They _must_ mean the Doctor'. And all the way over in the Tower of London Kate Lethbridge Stewart seemed to lose some of her professional cool ( by way of chocking on her tea) . Spluttering and coughing, she pressed her "Help the Doctor Button" that was literally built into her desk and told the response team to locate Clara. 'We're on our way Clara.' She reassured her before hanging up and going to join her soldiers for the storm on an innocent block of flats in London.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: There is probably a universe where I am the happy owner of every TV show ever created. Sadly we are not in that universe so all rights to the BBC**

Nothing ever happened on the street where Clara lived. It was ordinary and pleasant and _dull_. So it was a bit of surprise when the helicopters and cars surrounded the building, for the residents at least. For the Doctor, all this fanfare was completely ordinary so it took him a while to realise that Clara might be in trouble. The doctor looked up from the roots of the tree he was examining and finally noticed the abnormal activity. He stood up, dusted himself off and shot one final glare at the tree before wandering over to the block of flats. He saw Kate beckoning him over to the door and strolled over to her.

'What's going on?' He inquired looking around in confusion. ' Two individuals tracking you have broken into Clara's flat. They've-' but the Doctor had already gone running into the building before she could finish.

He flew up the stairs two at a time his hearts pounding,he ran into the flat focused completely on finding Clara. He threw open the door and stopped , breathing heavily as he surveyed the two intruders tied up on Clara's kitchen chairs. One of them, the smaller of the two was only semi-conscious and had a lump on his head that the Doctor suspected came from the frying pan swinging in Clara's hand.

'Well Doctor, looks like you missed all the fun.' Clara grinned at him and he shook his head and smiled back before turning back to the two men. 'Why are they here and what do they want?' he mused frowning, well aware of the fact that the two men were listening to their conversation. 'They won't tell me,' Clara huffed, 'I heard them talking about 13 men and their blue boxes and I reckon they saw pictures of you and thought you were different people.' The Doctor turned to look at the two men. The shorter one, the one with the lump on his head was now fully conscious and was staring rather mournfully at a military issue gun that the Doctor presumed Clara had 'confiscated' from him. The taller of the two was sitting back and taking in the scene with a calculating expression. Their eyes met and the Doctor could see intelligence in his eyes. He was fairly certain the pair were human ( more so of the smaller one than the other) but he used his sunglasses to be sure. They were both human and it wasn't until he got the result that the Doctor realised he had been assuming they were aliens sent to capture him.

A rap on the door alerted them to the fact that Kate was standing in the doorway flanked as usual by her two guards . She nodded at Clara and the Doctor before turning to the two men; 'What are your names?' she asked curtly. 'We won't say.' replied the tall one defiantly at the same time that his friend sighed 'I'm John, that's Sherlock.' 'You weren't supposed to say anything.' snapped Sherlock. 'Well in case you haven't noticed, _we're both tied to chairs_.' John shot back. As the pair continued to argue the Doctor saw an expression flash briefly across Kates face, an expression that made him very nervous indeed. It was an expression that said I am going to involve you in my plans and there's nothing you can do about it and it had been directed at him more times then he cared to remember. In fact the Doctor was almost certain that to be a member of UNIT you had to be able to do that expression. It was quite a novel experience not being the subject of it, but he had a feeling he would wind up involved anyway. You never knew with UNIT. 'Who put you up to this?' the Doctor queried. 'Mycroft bloody Holmes, that's who.' John shouted before before going back to berating Sherlock. 'Well,' Kate said finally, looking around at the occupants of the room. 'I suppose we'd better bring them in.' Upon hearing this the two bickering men fell into stunned silence. The Doctor chuckled quietly and turned to leave. He was almost out the door when he was stopped by Kate. 'No Doctor, you're coming too.' Clara smirked at the Doctors failed bid for freedom before following Kate and their two captives out the door. As the group made their way downstairs, the Doctor began wishing he was at Disneyland Clom.

John was cross, mostly with Sherlock but also with Mycroft for involving them in this... and with frying pan girl, but mostly with Sherlock. Although that was nothing new. However what was new was the fact that they were in the back of what he thought (and hoped) was an MI5 car on their way to God knows where to be interrogated. When Sherlock had told him what they would be doing he had assumed it was going to be simple albeit completely illegal. Apparently it hadn't crossed either of their minds that the girl, Clara, would be home, or under protection, or have a frying pan. The car slowed to a stop and one of the guards opened the doors for them. Upon getting out he realised where they were and groaned. The Tower of London _of all places_. They were led through a winding corridor, down several flights of stairs and into an office. The woman- Kate or something sat down behind the desk and gestured for the Doctor and Clara to have a seat.

She told her officers to leave and when they were alone began to speak; 'Why did Mycroft Holmes want you to break in to Miss Oswalds flat?' Sherlock glowered and remained stubbornly silent so John felt he should explain. After all, Mycroft was in charge of these people so they wouldn't get into any trouble, at least he hoped not. 'Well,' John started, 'He found some confidential files and wanted to find out what was in them.' It was only as John said this that he realised how childish the whole thing sounded. 'This is the man who's unofficially running the country?' asked the doctor guy. 'Yeah.' John drawled, his displeasure evident on his face. Apparently he agreed with Johns thoughts. 'Well good luck is all I can say to you.' He said cheerfully. Sherlock looked ready to snap and a part of John hoped he'd see it, however he was spared from this because Clara took the opportunity to speak; 'So what you're saying is someone was just curious? Well we can let them go then, I mean no one need mention this and I won't press charges.'

'Well actually Clara we were hoping that they would help us with something.' Kate informed her. 'What could they possibly help us with?' the Doctor demanded skeptically. 'Well there's an unknown threat underneath London. We need someone with detective and investigation skills and he's the best there is.' Sherlock acknowledged the compliment with a slight nod of his head. 'Is this about the people disappearing off the underground?' asked Clara referring to a recent news story. Kate nodded and handed her a file, 'All the information we have is in here.' As Clara and the Doctor rifled through the file, Kate turned to Sherlock. 'So Mr. Holmes, will you take the case?'

Any stranger would have thought he was about to say no but John knew this was much too interesting to pass up. 'Fine' Sherlock said suddenly, 'But first I need more information.' 'Well basically I'm an alien, this is UNIT and 'The Little Engine That Could' is a very important book.' the Doctor summed up, turning to look at Clara who rolled her eyes and scoffed. John hid his smile behind his hand as Sherlock frowned and looked at Kate for a better explanation.

'To clarify, this man is a Time Lord, a member of a highly intelligent, nearly extinct alien race. He travels through time and space and has saved this planet and many others numerous times. You will be working with him over the course of this project as we have reason to believe that the threat is alien and he is our alien expert.' Kate informed him calmly. 'I'm not sure where 'The Little Engine That Could' comes into this though.' She added. 'Lets go' said Sherlock pulling on his coat. 'And don't tell your brother about this.' Kate shouted after him as the others followed the detective out through the door.

As they walked to the underground station mentioned in the file, Clara fell into step with John. 'So are you Sherlock's companion?' she asked conversationally wrapping her scarf more tightly around her neck as she did so. 'We aren't- I'm not- _why_ does everyone think I'm _gay_?' John spluttered looking severely annoyed. 'I didn't mean _that_ , I just meant are you the side-kick, because that's pretty much what I am.' Clara replied appeasingly, smiling slightly at Johns reaction. 'Oh, well I suppose I am,' John said slowly, 'Actually what do you and the Doctor do? 'Well,' Clara said breezily, 'We mostly just travel through time and space together occasionally getting into life or death situations, actually that happens an awful lot.' John pinched the bridge of his nose 'My God this...this is strange, You know a few hours ago if you told me there was such thing as time travel I would've directed you towards the nearest mental hospital, but now...' John shook his head ruefully and looked at Sherlock and the Doctor who were walking ahead of them seemingly deep in conversation. 'By the way' John said 'I haven't apologised for the whole breaking into your flat thing.' 'And I haven't apologised for the frying pan.' Clara replied smiling. 'Truce?' she asked holding out a hand. John shook it and smiled at her. Clara had a feeling that if they both got out of whatever inevitable mess they were bound to get into alive, they were going to be good friends. It isn't everyday you come across someone in almost exactly the same impossible position as you.

While Clara and John were breaking the ice, it was a very different story for the Doctor and the detective. They were perfectly civil to one another but there was an underlying sense of mistrust and dislike among the two. The Doctor didn't like Sherlock because his being there meant that he was going to have to share control. The Doctor did not like sharing control. Sherlock's reasoning was a lot more rational; beyond the basics nothing had been explained to him therefore he had no reason to trust the man . 'What happened to the others?' Sherlock asked suddenly. 'What others?' the Doctor responded sharply. 'The men in the boxes before you.' The Doctor looked relieved and Sherlock wondered what others the Doctor thought he had been referring to; 'Well,' the Doctor began, 'They are me. No, hear me out' he said seeing Sherlocks face, 'When my race starts dying we regenerate every cell in our bodies. As such we get a completely new age, face and personality. Those other men were just my previous regenerations.' 'Fascinating' muttered Sherlock distractedly. This new information irked him because he thought he had the man figured out, but if he could change his personality then what could you deduce?

They walked further down the empty street until Sherlock pointed out the underground station they were going to. It wasn't in use and had that dreary dilapidated look that made you want to keep away from it. The three men hesitated and looked at each other when they reached the top step. 'Oh for Gods sake' Clara muttered and pushed passed them down the steps and into the station.

The Doctor hurried after her and John and Sherlock exchanged an apprehensive look before following them into the dank and gloomy underground with the rare but welcome sunlight receding as they went further into the underground.

 **A/N: Sorry about the long wait, but I couldn't update because the first part of the chapter was written in my english copy, which I left in school over mid-term. I think from now on I'll be updating every 2nd Monday because I'm lazy.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: The truth is; I'm very evil. However I'm not Steven Moffat evil. And that dear children is how you know that I only own the plot.**

The cold was the first thing that Clara noticed. It was freezing in the station. John and Sherlock were also shivering and the Doctor looked, mildly cold. 'Superior Time Lord biology.' He said looking at her smugly. Clara resisted the urge to slap him. It was dark too. John and Sherlock had to turn on their torches when they started descending into the station. Clara shivered again, and this time it wasn't from the cold.

They were standing on the platform of the derelict station looking around. There were service tunnels, bathrooms, shops and the tracks themselves went two different directions. Sherlock wondered which way to go. He glanced around but couldn't see anything that would give them a clue of which way. He was about to suggest that the Doctor have a look when he realised that the man had put on a pair of sunglasses. Sherlock wondered -and not for the first time- just what he'd gotten himself into. The doctor began walking up and down the platform, examining the tracks while a strange buzzing noise resonated from the designer eye-wear. After a while he stopped and took off his sunglasses. 'There's residual kastiol energy focused around that tunnel.' The Doctor said matter of factly, pointing at the tunnel on the left. 'You can tell that from _sunglasses_?' asked John in confusion. 'They clearly have some kind of scanner built in.' said Sherlock rather haughtily, deciding it would be best to keep quiet about his own disbelief. 'Shall we?' asked Clara. The Doctor jumped down onto the tracks and Sherlock followed him. Clara jumped next, followed by John.

The Doctor was starting to feel rather grateful for the torches. He didn't usually have any need for such a boring device as a torch, but even his advanced eyes couldn't see a thing without them as they walked in silence down the tunnel. 'What sort of doctor are you?' John queried, interrupting the Doctors train of thought. 'Everything.' he said shortly, not liking being interrupted from his thoughts. Clara glared at him but said nothing, figuring that he was planning what to do when they found the aliens. The truth was however, that the Doctor had no idea what was going to happen next, and he despised that. All he knew was that the aliens were using kastiol energy, but lots of species used that type of energy. It only told him was that these people were powering something huge and required a _lot_ of energy.

Sherlock walked alongside the Doctor almost as preoccupied. He did not like the fact that they were wandering off into a tunnel with low visibility and lots of hiding places, but it had seemed like a good idea at the time so now he'd just have to see it through to the end. Clara and John were walking a little behind him chatting amiably amongst themselves. Sherlock despised pointless chatting (A sentiment the Doctor shared, unkown to him). However there was nothing better to do so Sherlock started listening to them; 'It's exciting being down here,' Clara was saying looking around her, 'I mean its kind of thrilling walking along tracks, because it sort of feels like we're going to get hit at any minute.'

'Oh please the tracks aren't even live.' interrupted Sherlock, unable to listen any longer (although the amount of time he had been listening was a personal record). They stopped talking abruptly and this time it was John's turn to glare at Sherlock.

They walked on again, everyone alone with their thoughts until Clara felt that she had to break the silence or she'd go mad; 'Doctor do you have a plan?'

'Define plan.' he replied cheerfully. 'Are you kidding me?' she groaned exasperatedly, 'What are we going to do next?' 'Keep walking.' he offered shrugging. 'You haven't planned for any of this?!' Sherlock demanded incredulously. 'Why is it up to me to come up with the plan anyway.' The Doctor replied stressfully.

The Doctor went striding ahead, and with a shout of surprise, almost walked right off a cliff. He flailed around trying to regain his balance before Sherlock grabbed his collar and yanked him back from the edge. 'Looks like the tracks end here.' John offered in an attempt to lighten the situation. 'Yes, thank you Captain Obvious' snapped Clara. They looked around for a way onwards until the doctor noticed a path down the cliff. After pointing it out, Sherlock and John began asessing the risk. Clara got bored of waiting, so she snatched Sherlocks torch and set off down the path. Sherlock followed indignantly, clearly trying to get it back. John shrugged and gestured for the Doctor to go. The Doctor followed Sherlock down the crumbling path with John bringing up the rear.

Clara, meanwhile, was wondering how she'd gotten herself into the situation she was in. Traveling through time and space was one thing, but walking sideways down the edge of a cliff on a path only 15cm wide was quite another. She could hear John at the back cursing under his breath. There was a small gap in the path and clara paused to jump over. Before she could however, Sherlock came crashing into her.

Clara somehow managed to keep her balance but Sherlock lost his footing and with a curse he fell. Clara and the Doctor were able to grab him and hoist him up with the help of John. They all paid much closer attention after that and the Doctor hardly dared to breath until they reached the bottom. It was only then that they saw the lift. 'No...'John breathed, as Clara groaned in frustraton, hoping it didn't mean that they took the long way down. The Doctor went in it and sure enough it brought him right up to the top of the cliff and back down again. Sherlock could have kicked himself for not seeing it. It was infuriating that they hadn't noticed but the Doctor decided to be rational and just go back to hating torches. He soniced it to see if he'd gain any useful information but the lift just ran off a small generator next to the door.

The Doctor turned back to the group and relayed the information. Clara, still holding Sherlocks torch began to make her way around the wall of the cavern, looking for a door. 'I need to go to my mind palace,' Sherlock said suddenly, 'I might find something.' he walked off and sat down against the wall, almost immediately going into a trance. The Doctor looked at John questioningly; 'He has to go into a sort of trance to access his mind palace.'He clarified.

'And what might I ask, _is_ a mind palace?'

'There's a theory where if you put all your thoughts and memories in a place, like a room or a street you'll be able to go back and access them with ease later. Its basically a way of remembering everything.' John replied.

'Intruiging.' the Doctor muttered having already lost interest. After all he didn't need a mind palace, considering he had infinite memory space.

'Doctor I found a door.' Clara called out. John and the Doctor hurried over and they all heaved open the heavy metal door and peered through. They were just able to make out a tunnel that appeared to have been hand-dug. They turned and Clara made to wake Sherlock, who was sitting against the wall, but John stopped her.

'he won't wake up until he's ready to wake up,' he informed them with the air of someone who had explained sherlocks erratic behaviour to others before, and still found it awkward.

'Well what are we supposed to do while he's off talking to his imaginary friends?' Clara asked, because she was impatient to deal with the threat and get back out in the open air where the

ice-cream was.

'There's always knitting.' John offered laughing, however he wilted when she glared at him. John turned away frowning, before going to lean against the wall. Clara and the Doctor shrugged at each other and went to join John in waiting for Sherlock to wake up.

Moriarty was waiting for Sherlock when he retreated into his mind palace. 'You think its me don't you Sherlock.' Moriarty said, smirking at him. They were in the library, a favourite of Sherlocks. 'Of course I don't think its you. You died,' Sherlock snapped, pushing past him to get to his books on unusual cases. He had hoped to get some peace and quiet, but apparently his subconscious had other ideas. 'If you don't think its me then why am I here Sherlock?'

This really irritated him as he'd seen Moriarty _shoot_ himself for God's sake. Yet, he couldn't help but feel that this had Moriarty written all over it.

He stormed out of the library and into the kitchen. He went over to the fridge and took out his favourite skull. He didn't usually have a kitchen, unless he needed a kitchen appliance to trigger a memory, however it was comforting to see a piece of home amongst all the madness.

Sherlock grabbed the file and his skull, and went to sit by the swimming pool. He flicked through the files, noticing more and more of them had connections he hadn't seen before, because he hadn't had the information he possessed now.

'Did you expect me to just stay put Sherlock?' Moriarty crooned, 'Because you know I love to explore.'

'Will you just get out of my head.' Sherlock snapped. Moriarty ignored him and continued to wander around the pool. 'Love the decor,' Moriarty drawled, 'Reminds me of our first, explosive encounter.' Moriarty continued to talk and Sherlock did his best to shut him out, but to no avail. He was so fed up however, that when Moriarty said that the skull was a more interesting conversationalist then John, he simply gave up and pushed Moriarty into the deep end.

'You can't get rid of me that easily.'

Moriarty's voice echoed in Sherlock's head as he exited his palace and rejoined the world.

When Sherlock resurfaced he found three pairs of eyes glaring at him. 'How long was I gone?' he asked briskly standing up and brushing himself off. 'Oh don't worry, you were only gone for an hour.' The Doctor said sarcastically, helping Clara up from where she was sitting on the ground. 'Did you find anything useful Sherlock?' asked John. Sherlock turned to him gratefully, only to realize that John was just as angry as the others, if not more so.

'I don't understand why you're so upset,' said Sherlock shaking his head, 'I mean nothing happened while I was gone. _And_ I figured out a lot of what's happening.' Sherlock felt it would be better to say he'd used the time productively, rather than admitting that he'd spent an hour arguing with an imaginary arch-nemesis.

'Lets just get going before sleeping beauty over here decides he needs another nap.' With one final glare in Sherlocks direction, Clara stalked off and began the difficult task of opening the damn door.

John went over to help her and through their combined efforts, they were able to get the door open. The Doctor filled Sherlock in on what he'd missed (which had mostly been them complaining about the lack of food), and went over to join the others at the door. Clara waited until they were closer before turning to Sherlock; 'I have commandeered your torch permanantly.' she informed him cheerfully before walking off into the tunnel. The others followed and John closed the door behind them.

It was dark in the tunnel and Clara grabbed the Doctors hand. He squeezed it reassuringly and Clara felt grateful for the friendly gesture.

They kept moving and John started noticing strange things. Every so often, there was a... metal object set into the earthen wall. 'Doctor are those, camera's?' John asked, motioning for the others to stop. The Doctor began to examine one carefully. 'It's are human technology from the...mid 22nd century at a guess.' The Doctor said in surprise. 'That would imply that they used time travel to get here.' mused Sherlock examining the ground around it.

He didn't expect to find anything, however he was wrong. Upon realising what he'd found a horrible thought began to form in the back of his mind. 'It's all a trap.' he muttered, more to himself than the otheres. 'What do you mean?' asked John sharply.

'Well it's all a bit too convenient. I mean Mycroft suddenly finds files about you Doctor, then you two show up in London at the same time and place where we are. And then we all go strolling into a derelict station thats just a trap waiting to happen.' Sherlock paused his rant and turned to the Doctor, 'Can they hear us?'

The Doctor shook his head and Sherlock continued, 'Look on the floor, footsteps leading in the direction we're going. There's obviously a split in the path so our kind hosts have left a breadcrumb trail for us to follow, therefore making sure we stay on the correct path. The question remains however, what are we going to do?'

'I say we keep going,' said John looking around at them all, 'I mean if we turn back they'll just stop us but if we keep going we might be able to stop ourselves from being captured. At any rate we've come this far haven't we?'

'I agree with John,' The Doctor said unexpectadly.

'I say we keep going.' said Clara decisively, and they all set off without waiting to see what Sherlock thought (there was a _small_ chance they were still annoyed at him). It wouldn't have mattered anyway as Sherlock had no intention of turning back, not when he'd made it this far.

The predicted split of the path came and the footsteps continued to the right, so they followed. It seemed endless but all they could do was keep moving forward, each of them looking around warily at the slightest noise. Which was why Clara nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard someone call out. There was a person, a woman, somewhere, calling out for help. The four of them took off running. They came across a door and the Doctor immediately started sonicing. 'Don't worry, we're coming to help.' Clara called out reassuringly, just as the Doctor managed to get the door open.

They all rushed in, and were greeted by the site of a recording device sitting on a table. With a sudden clang, the door was shut and sealed, leaving them trapped in an airtight room with a recording of a woman crying out for help playing on repeat.

However that was the least of their worries because just as John realised it might get a bit hard to breath, gas started filling the room. Clara dropped first, with John and Sherlock following in quick succession. The Doctor held on for longer but that did him more harm then good as the gas burned his lungs. He staggered around blindly, coughing and spluttering, before dropping to his knees desperately gasping for air.

As he lost consciousness, his last thought was that Clara was going to kill the people who did this. With a baseball bat. The Doctor hoped he'd be there to see it.

 **A/N: I couldn't resist doing a cliffhanger! I have the plan of this story worked out and there are probably going to be six or seven chapters. Reviews are welcome. Because she's making me I'd like to thank my older sister for making these stories readable through the medium of editing (also blame her for the wait, I had the chapter done ages ago, but she didn't edit until now). I'd also like to thank the academy.**


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing Clara noticed when she woke up was that she suddenly had the urge to kick something or someone. The second thing she noticed was that she was strapped to a chair. She glanced to her right and saw that the others were all awake and in the same predicament she was.

Her chair, a big metal thing with handy arm and leg shackles built in, was connected to a monitor which was showing what she assumed were her vitals.

'Doctor,' she hissed, 'What are these chair things?'

'I've seen them before.' he responded frowning. He hesitated as if wary of telling her. Clara they're Cyberman technology.' he said refusing to meet her eye.

'Well,' she said forcing herself to keep her tone light, 'At least we know what we're up against.'

'Have you dealt with 'Cybermen' before?' enquired Sherlock curiously.

'They're one of my... tougher foes.' the Doctor replied

'Well at least they're not Daleks.' Clara chimed in, somewhat cheerfully

'What are- nevermind, can we get out?' John asked. 'They're deadlock sealed.' Was the disheartening reply.'Great.' John said as he gritted teeth.

John glanced around the room- if you could call it a room. It was really more of a cave, with two doors either side of the room and the aforementioned furniture. Both doors appeared to be similar in design to the door at the entrance to the tunnel that the 'Cybermen' had built. Four monitors lined the back wall and in the centre of the room sat a control panel.

John craned his neck to see if there were any handy 'release the prisoner' switches. He didn't find one, nor had he expected to. That sort of thing only happened in TV shows.

Sherlock, meanwhile had been pumping the doctor for information about the cybermen; 'They're humans who gave themselves metal bodies and extracted their own emotions. They only understand deleting, which is killing, and upgrading, which is making other humans like them. They don't listen to plea's or bargains.'

'So what's the plan or is there one?' Sherlock asked. The Doctor simply frowned and stared at his shoes.

'He hasn't gotten one yet but one will come to him, eventually.' Clara said by way of explanation. Sherlock noticed how confident she sounded and it was only then that it occured to him that this must be just another adventure for them. He himself had had many close encounters with dangerous criminals, but this was something new altogether.

Despite the bleakness of the situation, and the Cybermen no doubt coming to kill them, he couldn't help but feel quite exhilerated by it all, and he wondered if the others agreed with him.

The others, in fact, did not agree, and although none of them were scared exactly, they were all dreading what was to come.

Clara was going round and round in her head, but she kept coming back to the same thought; why were their vitals being monitored? She'd encountered the Cybermen multiple times before, they didn't care about individuals, they just came in all guns blazing.

Except for the time they didn't. That time they'd had a leader. That time they'd had... 'Doctor you don't think Missy is behind this do you?'

'I thought about it but no, this isn't her style. Although, they are definitely being led by someone. The question is who?'

John glanced at Sherlock and he could see that Sherlock was thinking the same thing; Moriarty couldn't be behind _this_ , could he? John shook his head slightly dismissing the thought. He stuck a gun in his mouth and blew his brains out. You can't recover from that.

They turned away from each other, returning to their own thoughts. The problem with that is when you're being held captive in an underground cell your thoughts don't tend to be particularly pleasent.

The Doctor was no exception to this and was just beginning to wonder if the Cybermen were in fact working for Missy and that she had simply decided to try and do something new, when the door on the right began to slowly swing open, emitting a faint hiss as it moved.

The Doctor could hear the Cybermen marching now and as they came into the room he felt a sense of dread settle in the pit of his stomach.

There were only three of them, standing in formation with the one in the middle slightly in front. It was to this one that Sherlock adressed his next remark; 'What do you want from us?'

'Stalling for time,' clara muttered understandingly to John. 'Waiting for the genius to hit.' he whispered back.

'You will be upgraded,' the Cybermen chorused as one. 'Yes but why go to all that trouble to just capture us,' the Doctor demanded, 'Why set a trap for us.'

This made the robots stop, as if waiting for a signal, or possibly a cue as to what they were allowed to say. 'the four of you shall become one of us. Your combined intelligence shall be exploited.' the lead Cyberman said finally. 'Clara Oswald and Doctor John Watson will be upgraded first.'

The Doctor and Sherlock began to struggle against their shackles to stop them. John, however kept his head and waited until his legs were free and kicked the Cyberman unshackling him. Normally this would have done nothing except cause the kicker considerable pain. However due to the fact that the Cyberman in question was incredibly weak and in need of an upgrade and Johns foot found a chink in the armour that released a large EMP (electromagnetic pulse) that caused all the Cybermen to temporarily malfunction (until they upgraded).

A bone in Johns foot also broke on impact but that was just a minor detail. The Cybermen began to stir and John was torn; save his friends or get out and stop the Cybermen. 'Go,' the Doctor shouted, 'Find the generator room and switch it off. Don't worry about us.'

John glanced at Sherlock, who nodded curtly. 'I'll come back.' he said to them, sprinting for the door the Cybermen had come in from.

The Doctor looked at the figures on the ground. The trio of metal men were beginning to recover from the electric shock the weakness in their bodies had released. The doctor knew that by now a message had been sent to however many other Cybermen there were out there, telling them to upgrade.

It was a pity that, as dealing with a Cybermen invasion by kicking them was quite appealing. The Cbermen marched out of the room in persuit of John, all Cyberman-ification plans forgotten.

Sherlock, who had stayed quiet since the Cybermen first entered the room now turned to the Doctor; 'Will he be able to find the generator room?'

'He should if he has any common sense. He is, however going to need quite a bit of luck to keep him from being caught.'

'Well we've all survived so far, so I think he'll be fine,' Clara said, trying to keep her voice light. 'Soooo... what do we do now?' she asked.

'Now,' said the Doctor, 'We wait.'

John didn't pay any attention to where he was going. But you couldn't blame him considering there were at least three of those 'Cybermen' things chasing him, probably more. He ducked down a side corridor and found that it was lined with doors. He chose one at random and darted in.

He slammed the door shut breathing heavily. He appeared to be in some sort of storage room. Except instead of mops and buckets it had spare parts; heads, feet, hands and even baskets full of computer chips.

John leaned against the door and listened. He heard footsteps march past and let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. The immediate threat had passed but now he was faced with an even bigger problem. How was he supposed to find the generator room the Doctor mentioned. And how would he make it back even if he did.

He looked around the room and upon noticing the computer chips again he came up with a plan. Although plan was a strong word for what he had in mind. He grabbed the box and cautiously opened the door. The coast was clear, and he wasn't sure but he thought he could hear a faint humming noise coming from up ahead.

With nothing else to go by he decided to walk in the direction of the noise, dropping chips every so often, like a high tech bread crumb trail.

'I spy with my little eye, something beginning with L' Clara said, trying to get Sherlock and the Doctor to play. However there were only so many many rounds of 'I spy' that could be played before it started getting repetitive. They'd hit that point about thirteen turns ago.

'Do you mind,' Sherlock snapped, 'I'm trying to think.' Clara wondered why he didn't just go back into his mind palace, but when she asked him about it, he just looked uncomfortable and said he'd found all he needed.

The Doctor on the other hand, had been happy to sit around talking, until he realised they'd taken his sunglasses. Now he sat there sulking and appeared to be trying to break the wall with the sheer force of his glare.

They'd been stuck there for hours and Clara was just hoping that John was still safe. It didn't occur to the Doctor or Sherlock that John might not be able to find the generator room, but then neither of them seemed to think of things like that. Really they were lucky to have people who didn't overlook ordinary details like that.

She wasn't feeling particularly charitable towards either of them, but she'd been stuck down there for almost a day, and she hadn't eaten since the 1920's. She just hoped John would be able to find the generator and wasn't captured, or worse... But no, Clara thought firmly, he's fine. She refused to consider the alterntive.

John was in fact still going strong, and the hum of the generator was getting louder by the minute. The only drawback was that the adrenaline rush had worn off and now his foot hurt. Like. Hell.

The main problem wasn't the pain though. It was the fact that if it came down to it, he didn't think he'd be able to run from any 'Cybermen'. The best he could hope for was making it to the room undetected.

At one point dozens of 'Cybermen' had marched past, but he'd been able to slip around a corner out of sight. He only hoped the metal men hadn't gone back for his friends, bUt he suspected they were all out looking for him.

He was already about halfway through the box of computer chips, but he thought that he didn't have much further to go. He had no doubt that the generator would be guarded and he didn't have a hope of repeating his earlier triumph. But he kept moving nonetheless, deciding he'd cross that bridge when came to it.

However all too soon he found himself at a door that the generator was unmistakably behind. He listened but he couldn't hear a thing above the hum. Although that could be an advantage as it could mask his footsteps from any 'Cybermen' standing guard.

He pushed open the door quietly and slipped in. There was a 'Cyberman' nearby but he had his back to the door so John slipped past him and crept over to the control panel. He found the power button and was just about to press the button when he felt a hand close around his shoulder.


End file.
